


The Undiscovered Country

by exmachinarium



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Gen, Nightmares, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmachinarium/pseuds/exmachinarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the curtain inside his head falls, he's on the beach again, facing the vast ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Undiscovered Country

When the curtain inside his head falls, he's on the beach again, facing the vast ocean. The sand crunches under his bare feet, the faint smell of smoke bothers his nostrils.

He's been here so many times, he doesn't need to listen for the sound of approaching steps - he always turns around at the exact same moment and comes face to face with a familiar plump figure.

Piggy's glasses are in Ralph's hand now, the broken shards digging into the soft flesh of his palm just like on the day they were carried away from the Island. Ralph holds out his hand in order to return the precious token, only to notice Piggy doesn't need them any more. In front of him there no longer stands Piggy. It's Simon - only that he's no longer Simon as well. What Ralph meets on the beach is some strange transition between the two; like Samneric, he thinks instantly, but it's not the same at all.

The boy before him holds out his hands - plump but tanned almost black by the scorching sun - revealing the conch in all its unshattered, pristine glory.

 _Call the assembly,_ the mingled voices of the two ring in Ralphs head. He takes the conch, blood-stained fingers trembling in reverence.

But as he holds it up to his lips, from within the conch emerges a fly, followed by another, and another, and another, and another, until a black swarm surrounds the conch, creeps up Ralph’s shoulders, lapping at the thin wounds slashed across Ralph's hand. He tries to shake them off, free himself from the buzzing mass, rescue the sanctity of the conch. Yet as the flies are chased away by his frantic movements, they reveal not the shimmering surface of the conch, but the ghastly paleness of the pig's skull, its menacing grin growing wider and wider until it rips through the bone and...

Ralph wakes up, frantically gasping for air, the duvet kicked back, his body clammy with sweat. In the darkness he examines his hand in search of the bruises, but there are none to be found. His breath evens out slowly as he gets up and stumbles across the room towards the window.

Mother forbids him to leave it open for the night, afraid he might catch a cold. But Ralph cannot breathe in the confined space; it feels too much like being surrounded by the thicket again, too much like being submerged in the black smoke of burning trees and shelters...

Shuddering, he pushes the window open, then lays his head against the cool window-sill, desperately trying to stay awake.

One day, he knows, he won't be able to wake up in time to escape. The maddening grin will split in half and he shall be the one inside the pig’s mouth.

The Island is hidden behind Ralph's eyelids. The Island waits.

The Island will swallow him whole.


End file.
